Oddly Enough
by OddlyTrue
Summary: Your only companion can look perfect in your eyes, can they not?
1. Beginning

The moans and shrieks echoed through my head. I could hear their claws making a screeching sound on the metal of the door. I lazily picked myself up from the blanket, glancing at the writing of the wall. Almost every inch covered it, messages to loved ones and messages meant to lead survivors in to safety, maybe even scare them. I grimaced. Messages to loved ones that were probably already dead.

I removed the soothing quilt from my body, brushing off whatever dirt was in the covers from my clothes. The zombies quickly gathered at the door in excitement. I pick up a rock on the ground and flung it towards them, smirking when I heard feedback. They were like dogs on a leash.

Looking at the floor, I noticed a photo. Examining it I realized it was a picture of my family. I sighed and bent over to pick it up. I grazed the photograph with my finger, and then gently let it and myself fall to the ground. I smiled as the pleasant memories flooded my mind. Laughing and joking, smiling, even that strange tingly feeling that you get when you think of someone you love was gone now. The sorrow raided my head like a bandit. I felt a frown cross my face unexpectedly, and I let a miserable groan escape my lips, which was mimicked by the zombies behind me.

I shoved the photo in to my backpack, along with some ammo, four med packets and six pain pill bottles. These days, I often found a surplus of supplies in safe houses. I didn't occur to me that this would be a problem until recently. Did this mean that less people were making it to safe houses? If more people were dying, was it just a case of inexperienced shooters, or was it actually that the zombies were getting stronger and more populated as the messages indicated? Was there a better chance that I could be alone in this city?

I shook my head, vanishing the thought from my mind. Pulling out my pistol, I walked toward the door, my high heels clicking on the floor. The undead wailed as I removed the metal bar and pressed against the door.


	2. Introduction

I pressed my back against the freezing iron door. Gasps fluttered through me as my breathing slowed down. The few moans and whispers given by what was left of the undead gave me a headache.

Out of no where, I heard a dry and pathetic sob. Was it a witch? If so, I hadn't heard it until now. But there was no way it was in the safe house. I could feel my knees start to buckle a little bit. I've seen someone attacked by a witch before, and they never survived without any help. And I was alone.

Luckily I had picked up some sneakers along the way, so they didn't make any noise as I tip-toed down the aisle. "Hello? Anyone there?" My own voice stunned me. From behind me a heard a cardboard box fall, fruit and water bottles rolling on the uneven concrete floor. Another sob.

A boy stood up from the corner. He looked weary and grimy with his torn pants. "Hi." A smile had reached my face. Finally, another human. One that's not infected. However he didn't look so blissful.

"Stay away from me." The look in his eyes was risky and alert, tinted with a bit of woe. They were a dull blue, like as if the color had been drained out of them. In his right hand was a gun. A shotgun. Something that could kill me in one blast. "Your infected, I know it!" He stepped out from the corner, allowing me to see him. From the way he was holding the gun, something looked wrong.

"I swear I'm not infected. I've never even got bitten." I held my hands up to my shoulders. There was no way I was going to give myself up completely. Suddenly his eyes were filled with regret, which quickly turned in to caution. "Not as if to say that I trust you, but hello."


	3. Welcome

"So, staying here for long?" The stranger smirked at me. "Hell no."

"Not so often I get a lady coming in here, why don't you stay a while?" I sighed and waved my hand sarcastically. "Oh please, I'm probably like 3 years old than you."

"18."

"21."

"Damn it."

"You know," His hand petted the table, uncomfortably close to mine. "You never told me your name, lady." I gradually moved my hand to my lap. "Never did you. But I guess if it gets rid of the lady nickname, I can tell. Alice Burg. And you?" He rolled his eyes before answering. "William Hamington." I grinned. "I like Will better."

"Then it shall be."

"How do you survive out here? I mean, I know you've got food, water and guns, but," I gestured to the guns on the table. Each one was covered in dust. "It doesn't look like you use them a lot." He shrugged. "I've never shot a bullet in my life." I arched an eyebrow. "Then how did you get here with that shitload of zombie hoards outside. And what was with the entire, '_I'll shoot you if you don't move away,_' bullshit? You scared the crap outta' me you know."

"Sheesh, one question at a time, alright la- Alice? Some weird guys lead me here. Then they just left. Even if I did follow them, I think they would have shot me to death. Crazy I tell ya. And the threatening, all part of my master plan." I gave him a death glare. "Alright, it was just to scare you."

"But what I want to know is what you're doing here." The question took me back. I was quite stunned actually. I'd almost forgotten what my _master plan_ was. "I'm looking for my family. They live in the other side of the city." I got out of my chair. "Well, time for me to go!" The sudden personal questions were making me vaguely uneasy.

Before I could gather up by belongings, his flaming hot hand grabbed my arm, and I swear I'd almost blushed. Human touch was such a remembrance now, I lingered on to it. I closed my eyes for one second, enjoying it, and then squirmed away. He looked moderately self-conscious. "What?"

"I- Can't you- Why not," He struggled for the words. I put on my backpack while I waited. "Can I come?" He forced out. "Thanks for the dinner and everything." I looked at the table, covered in a meal of beans and rice. It had actually been rather appetizing. "I really don't think a person like you should be out with zombies." Not that I thought that he could make it in here either. Not that I was going to voice that opinion. But that was his problem, right? He's 18, he can take care of himself. I don't need someone to get attached to in any way. Not now. Yet looking at him, I felt guilt at the thought.

"You'd probably just slow me down." I turned to the door in a flash, but he grabbed my shoulder to turn me back around. "What if I help?" I scowled at him in disgust. "You don't even know how to shoot a gun." He shrugged. "So? Teach me." I felt bad for the kid. Plus, I could use to extra help every once in a while. What was there to lose? _A lot._ I felt a surge of anguish, almost as if I were afraid. But whatever it was, it mustn't have been important at the time.

"Alright, grab a pistol."


	4. Before

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Will to get a hold of how to hold and shoot a gun properly. His shots were exceptionally accurate. After just a few days, he was already used to holding the most common guns, which I was planning to keep him on until later. I eventually had to ask him, "Are you sure you've never held a gun before?" To which he just chuckled and shook his head.

He had cooked me another meal of rice and beans, yet this time adding some corn he had found in the corner of the box, which was actually fresh. I had gotten used to eating such a big meal, I didn't have to eat seconds anymore.

"How did you end up here?"

"Didn't I already tell you?"

"I meant what happened to your family."

"They died in the zombie attack." I began to chew my food sluggishly. "My sister was the first one to go. I ended up killing them all. Didn't take much time until someone found me. From there, I was walked from safe house to safe house until I was left here." I warily looked up from my corn to find him smirking at me. How could he even smile reviewing his dreadful memories?

"This seems to make you uncomfortable." I nodded. "Yes. It does."

* * *

"When do we get to go outside again?" My stomach churned. "One more day, please."

"You promised."

"One more."

He sighed and continued wiping his shotgun off. "Fine."

"Excuse me." I abandoned my pistol and left the room.

* * *

I plopped down on the sleeping bag, which seemed to take of the stress away.

Why was it that I didn't want to leave? Why was it that everytime that the fragile topic was mentioned, I instantly wanted to curl over a toilet and hurl?

_Your scared._

But why?

Was I afraid of dying? No. I sickly welcomed the idea.

Was I afraid of becoming one of _them?_ Even though I preferred not to, that wouldn't be enough to stop me.

In the midst of my thoughts, Will knocked the door. "Tired?" I gulped. "Yeah, coming soon?" I whispered weakly. "Sure, just let me clean up the table a little. Got to get rested for tomorrow, you know?" I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yup."

I sighed. There was no way. I wasn't afraid of Will. But whatever I was afraid of involved him.

I turned on my side, closing my eyes. I was too tired to think about it anymore.

It could all wait until tomorrow.

But that still wasn't a pleasant reminder.

* * *

"Hey sleepy head. Wake up."

My vision was a bit blurry to the sudden light beaming down on my face. Will's face was the first thing I saw. "Hmm."

"Oh come on! I ready for the hordes!"

_No your not,_ my head screamed. I jumped. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little cold." His entire face brightened. "I'll make you something warm for breakfast today." I grabbed his arm. "You saying I can't cook?" Will shook his head. "No. Just saying you can't cook well."

"Dumbass." I rubbed my eyes. "I thought you needed beauty sleep to get ready for another day!" I yelled at the open door. "Oh, don't worry you don't need it."

"Why, thank you." He stood at the doorway. "Why? I just said that you don't need beauty sleep because there's nothing to make beautiful. It's all covered up by ugliness." He joked. I picked up the nearest paper and balled it up before throwing it. I could hear him laugh from the other room. "That's not you said the first time we met."

"I hadn't seen any signs of a human in a week. Of course I was going to try and get close to one. That's like accusing me of doing things while I'm drunk."

I scoffed. "Shouldn't be drinking away." His laughter roared. "Moron."

I wriggled my way from out the sheets, and breathed in fresh air, bracing myself for today.


	5. Content

"Shit."

"Huh?" I pointed to the shitload of zombies huddled in the streets. "Oh. Yeah." The moans carried through the streets as if these monsters were humans simply carrying on a conversation. If only.

We had ran away from the zombies that walked the alley ways and managed to climb the pole of a small gas station roof to reach safety. I pulled out my scoped rifle. "You plan on sniping all of them?" I put the scope up to my eye. "Well, the ones that will give us trouble. You might want to lay down to avoid being in sight." _1, 2, 3,_ I counted off in my head as I shot.

"Come on." I jumped to the nearest car. The Infected were too distracted by their own noise that they did not hear the _clunk_ that the car made when Will and I jumped on to the top. "Shoot like hell!"

As Will and I shot off the heads of zombies, I heard a deafening sob. "Turn off you lights and watch your step." Blood splattered across my face, a drop hitting my bottom lip. "That's so fucking _disgusting!_" The liquid dribbled down my chin as I jabbed torsos and wrestled with the zombies. Thank goodness I had wrestling matches with my older brothers.

I elbowed an Infected, and groaned in pain as it's once latched hand left a bloody scratch and stained my shirt immediately. I glanced at my ripped clothing, and quickly remembered there were more important things than how I looked.

"Behind you!" I turned to find the witch I had heard right behind me. "Thanks." I shivered at how close I had been to attracting that beast. I pushed through the crowd of zombies as Will shot them down with his shotgun. The sounds ringed through my head. The limp and frail bodies fell to the ground with a dull thud.

I was looking for the sign that would save my life. Turning my head, I saw the crude painting of a house and an arrow pointing to the right. "Safe house up ahead." By the time I had seen the sign, Will had taken the last of the zombies down.

"Great." Will was covered in drips of blood, his arm covered in it. "You okay?" He nodded. "I'm fine." He looked me up and down. My left arm held up my bleeding right arm. "We'll take care of your elbow later."

He sighed, putting his hand down on a car to rest. The alarm pealed and the lights beamed. We shared complete eye contact for a second, each of us having the look of utter panic in our eyes. "Rookie mistake?"

"Fuck."

* * *

When I shut the door behind us, a zombie's hand had reached in to the opening. The impact of my slamming had chopped his hand right off.

I picked it up, turning it in my gloved hand. "Here's your prize." I tossed the clammy hand to him, and he made the mistake of catching it is his bare hands. Will quickly released it and brushed it off on the near by table. It hit the floor with a wet splat. "What the hell do they do all day to make their skin so slimy?"

"I have no idea, but I do know you better patch my arm up now."

* * *

"Better?"

The pain in my elbow had been numbed due to a pack of pain pills and the bleeding had finally stopped. My arm was stiff and difficult to move, but it was better than crying out in pain any day. So yes, it was better.

"Yup."

Will relaxed in his seat. His mouth quickly opened as if to say something, and then closed right away. Maybe he was choosing his words carefully.

"What _exactly_ happened to you to get you in to this situation?"

I clasped my hands together. "My friend Kyah went to go get a drink from the vending machine outside. We waited and waited until we heard a moan and something hit the door. Her boyfriend Devin insisted on going outside to check on her. I waited for another five minutes, and decided to go check on them. If the machine was not working, I figured that they would have come in already." My hand shook uncontrollably from the memory, so I had to shove it under the table.

"When I opened the door, Kyah came rushing through. Her eyes were a dull white with the blood vessels showing in a pure red. Her skin was a sickly white-ish green. I had to hold my vomit and grab a weapon as she jumped at me. I grabbed a knife from the near by kitchen in my apartment and launched it in to her eye, and she dropped to the ground. I just stared at her body until I got the courage to lock the door and I grabbed a bag to pack food, weapons, first aid kits, _anything_ that would help me. From there I got in to my car and gathered further supplies until I returned to my apartment to find out my family left a voice mail asking me to come down there. I've been trying to get down there, but it's difficult. The number of zombies have increased. You just got the worse of it."

He smirked. "Can't start me off easy, can they?"

"No." I smiled.

"How far are we?"

"Half way there, I believe."

He stood up from the table. "I'm tired. Are you going to sleep?"

"Yeah." And for that brief moment, I knew why I didn't want to go out tonight. I was afraid of losing another life. I had befriended Will, and I didn't want to lose another friend. So, instead of rejecting him, I rejected death. Or, rather what could easily bring death. Yet seeing him fight tonight, I didn't see that happening anytime soon.

So I was happy.

Overly happy.

Yet content with this happiness.


	6. Home

Warm water!

The new safe house we were in had warm water. I was also thrilled to find out that it had a decent shower too. Since I woke up, I've been hogging it.

Every few minutes Will banged on the door. "Are you done yet?" His muffled voice would scream, and I would just sing _Achy Breaky Heart _louder.

After I'd figured I had enjoyed enough time in the shower, I put back on my clothing, which I had also cleaned in the shower, and walked in to the main room. I frowned.

"No breakfast?" He shook his head. "Nope. Not enough food for a decent meal. We'll have to leave earlier than usual." I scrubbed the counter absentmindedly with a dirty cloth I found in the bathroom. "Before we do however, you definitely have to take a shower."

"Why, do I stink?" I laughed. "Actually I was going to say because the warm water is absolutely exhilarating, but yeah, that too." I teased. He snorted.

"Well, I guess I'll go do that."

* * *

I rummaged through the boxes.

Zombie apocalypse be damned, there was no way I was missing out on the most important meal of the day.

Empty tin cans clunked against the wall as I tossed them behind me. "Whoa! Watch where you are throwing stuff!" A voice exclaimed behind me. I pulled out a cardboard box from the corner of the cabinet, and reached inside. It felt a light object, probably the size of my fist. The surface was smooth and rounded. I pulled it out expectantly, smiling when I saw what it was.

"Mind sharing that, Alice?" I pulled out my pocket knife and sliced the apple in half, handing him a piece.

* * *

"This is gross."

"This is life." I scoffed.

"Than life is gross. Puke worthy gross."

Sadly, he was right. The sewer we were forced in to smelled like body fluids mixed with something much worse. Every now and then, I would gag. Some type of liquid was dripping from the ceiling, and the walls reeked of urine. _Everything_ was covered in moss.

"Hey I found a grate." His flashlight lingered on a grate in the wall to our right. I deliberately pulled it open, and it came out easily. Evidence that it has been used recently. I felt like smiling, yet at the same time I wanted to hurl my guts out. What had gone through here recently?

We crawled through on our elbows, (I'm not taking any chances.) and that was when I saw our way out. "Follow me." I jumped the small gap from the left and right side of the sewer and grabbed the ladder.

I turned around and smiled at Will. "I guess we found our way out eh?" He beamed back.

* * *

The wind blew past my face, gently blowing my hair off of my shoulders, and I breathed in the fresh air that smelled like lilacs.

"We're home."


	7. Foolishness

The roads we unusually empty, not a zombie in sight. The wind that circled me gave me an uneasy feeling in my gut. My smiled disappeared quickly.

"It's... calm here."

_Yeah right,_ I wanted to mutter under my breath. Something about the atmosphere was uneasy and twisted, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

* * *

I rushed in to the changing room with a pile of clothes, beaming.

The small white sweater, yellow t-shirt, and black skinny jeans with my new white tennis shoes looked absolutely _adorable._ I twisted and turned from the mirror, looking at myself from every angle.

We had used a near by house to wash off, and I was practically sparkling. I actually looked completely satisfied for once.

I happily danced towards the cash register and raided it for all the cash it carried.

"You look nice."

Will was wearing stone-washed jeans, a black t-shirt, and checkered Vans with a black hoodie. He looked a lot younger than he did in his dirtier, old clothes.

"So do you." I curtsied to him, and he laughed.

* * *

I must say, the visit to the grocery store was a fun one.

I raced carts down the aisle and grabbed any food that didn't need to be cooked. We raced carts, and even lounged in them for a couple of minutes.

I picked up a grape from my bag, tossing it at him, hitting his ear. I giggled while he sneered at me. He than pulled out a grape of his own, and threw it at me, dramatically missing.

"You throw like a girl." He proclaimed. "I throw better than you."

He leaped out of his cart and jumped on me, pinning me to the ground and leaving the cart sliding towards the shelf.

"Stop! No, no, n-" Will forced a grape down my throat. The sourness arouse in my mouth as I sluggishly chewed.

Peeking out from one eye, I asked, "Please?"

Surrendering, he got off of me.


	8. Letter

The dead blades of grass that managed to hang on to the soil blew roughly in the breeze. The smell of dead rat filled my nostrils. The building was worn, the doors were ripped off their hinges. The windows were shattered and the only thing left of my favorite tree when I was growing up was a stub.

Home sweet home, right?

"I thought you said your home was pretty."

I glared back at Will, who had stood at the gate while I tiredly dragged myself towards the front door. (Or where there used to be a door, anyway.)

"It was." I confirmed. "The whole zombie apocalypse thing usually does not make _anything_ prettier."

The steps creaked when I stepped on them, each sound my soul absorbed the feeling of cautious safety. My hands were uncomfortably clammy, my legs were numb, and my head hurt with all the mixed feelings.

Will followed close behind me.

The wallpaper was pealing, the tiles were dust, and the torn curtains were swaying in the breeze. It didn't look like home, but I felt more at home than ever.

"Guess you make yourself comfortable." Will's head gazed at all of the flaws of the room. "How?"

I snorted. "Follow me." We ran up the stairs and turned a left down the hallway. At the end of the hall, there was a bright yellow door with a note taped on it. When I reached the door, I tore the note from the door.

_Dear Alice,_

_Don't worry, no one is injured._

_We waited for you as long as we could. After a couple of days, the army passed our house. They picked us up, and we are moving to a safer place as you are reading this letter right now._

_I asked them to go back in a couple of days in case you came looking for us. All you have to do is stay here for a few days._

_We are all terribly worrying about you, Alice. We can't wait to see you. Please, take care of yourself._

_We love you._

_ Love Mae Burg, your adoring mother_

I could already feel the frown on my face. Even though I was happy that they were all alive, I really wanted to see them.

Then I felt a grin replace my frown.

We were going to be safe.

We were alive.

We_ will_ continue to live.

And with that thought, I grabbed on the window sill and began to cry happily.


	9. Resting

"Do I look bad?"

Will had managed to calm me down from my hysteria of happiness.

"Just a little bit sad." Even though my moment was over, he still looked a little worried. "Don't worry, I won't start it again." He gave a reassuring smile. "Not that I blame your for your reaction. What was in the letter was good news." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I just don't really feel like this is my business, and that makes me uneasy. Like an intruder, or something."

I forced myself to nod. However, my next reaction came easily.

I hugged him.

It took him a few second to react, but he wrapped his arms around my waist. He was warm and smelled like flowers. (Which was probably from the garden outside, but I don't care.) I felt like a child in his arms. I pressed my ear on to his chest. The beat was steady, and slowly began to rise. Looking down, I suddenly realized how close we were, and what a sensitive moment we were in.

I awkwardly pulled away from his strong grip, and folded my arms. I began to hug myself as his hand flew to the back of his neck.

I took a deep breath and reached for the door knob, which was freezing cold. As it turned it screamed an agonizing sound that hurt my ears.

Unlike the other rooms, my room was clean and neat. None of the windows were broken and the curtains were not torn.

"Welcome to my bedroom." I sighed. The bed was still there. I sunk in to the mattress. Even though the blanket was cold, it was soft, and for a fleeting second, I felt calm. I was ready to rest.

And that's exactly what I did.

Rest.

* * *

"Wake up, sleepy head."

My blurry vision cleared up to see Will standing over me.

"I'm getting bored. Anything to do?"

I nodded sleepily. "Get off of me."

I brushed my hand through my hair. "How long have I been asleep?" He shrugged. "About an hour and a half, according to the clock."

The clock was 5:50. I looked around my room for a purple bag. No where to be seen. "What did you do with the purple bag I had?"

"What purple bag?" He asked. Shit. "I think I left it in the clothing store. I'll be gone for like, 20 minutes. Want to come?"

"Nah, I need to get some sleep, just like you did. Good luck finding it." He settled in the sheets and closed his eyes. "Gone yet?"

"Yeah." I shook my tousled hair and left the room.


	10. Hell

It took me ages to find my purple bag. I had left it in the changing room, hanging with the clothes I didn't take with me.

I pulled the bag open and shuffled through its contents. Everything was in there. I sighed with relief and took a seat on the chair in the room.

As I rested, a shadow passed under the door. I froze and my breath got caught in my throat. I slowly gripped the gun in my pocket and pulled it out.

The door made a small creek as I opened it. Bloody footsteps made a trail where that thing had passed through the walkway. I followed the footsteps, careful not to touch anything. When I made it past the corner, I saw what passed my door.

It was a human with torn, bloody clothing. She turned to face me. Her face and hair was coated in layers of blood, and she had no right hand. "Please," she reached out with her stub. "help me, it bit my hand off. Help me. Please!"

I backed away. That was how the infection first started, right? Biting someone. She was one of them. Or was _going_ to be one of them.

I raised my gun deliberately and pointed it at her head. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. My fingers laid themselves on the trigger.

"Please, no!" Her voice began to be hoarse, and droll dripped from her bottom lip.

Her mouth began to leak a pool of blood. "Oh my God!" I exclaimed.

I shot my gun. The bullet must have hit her in the head, because she gurgled, and fell on to the floor.

I dropped the gun on to the carpet that was now a pure red and I ran.

Ran and left everything that was mine in the store.

Ran to get back home.

To leave this place.

_We were no longer safe._

* * *

I was out of breath when I got to the doorstep.

"William!" I screamed.

I dropped on the floor in to the fetal position.

Of course, why did I think it was safe? I should have known someone would be residing here other than us.

Dry sobs came from me, and I shook with each cry. "William?" I called through the house. Didn't he hear me scream?

I crawled to the foot of the stairs. My body shook yet refused to cry. All I could do was moan.

Did I really kill that woman? Or was she technically already dead? Had I murdered her? Even if I really did, didn't I have a right to? I was protecting my life. I had to in order to survive. I should of.

Right?

I pulled myself up with the railing, and took each step gradually.

When I finally made it down the hallway, I opened the door.

Blood covered the bed. The blanket hung from the edge of the bed.

In the corner was a zombie. It was feeding off of Will's corpse.

I watched it's head bow down in to Will's open stomach. It's tongue licked the blood from his skin.

I clutched my stomach and hurled. My hair got wet with all the tears and my clothes was covered from the splatter of the puke as it hit the floor.

I glanced up, wiping my mouth. The Hunter was staring at me, it's mouth leaking blood.

I pressed my back up against the wall. I didn't reach for a weapon. I stared back at it.

A moment of silence passed us. I sat up from the wall. "Murderer." I whispered. "He's dead!" I yelled. "Damn you, you sick bastard!" The zombie cocked back, looking at me in surprise. Small tears dripped from my chin.

I remember all the times I had spent with Will. I remembered his laugh, that concerned look on his face. His sarcasm. However it was his touch I craved. It somehow made me feel safe.

Sadness took over.

I couldn't go on.

The only reason I had that bit of saneness and humanity I once had was because I had a companion. I had someone to fall back on.

And I lost that. And I couldn't continue on, even if someone was going to save me tomorrow.

So I slumped back on to the wall.

I let the Hunter pounce at me.

I let him bite in to my skin, and I let the blood flow on to the carpet.

I let myself scream my lungs out, and I let myself welcome the new light.

Hell, I even reached for it.


End file.
